


All that matters

by resonae



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slight mention of non/con, slight mention of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonae/pseuds/resonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony is a bastard, Clint is hopelessly in love with him, Steve just wants Clint to be happy, and everything goes downhill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that matters

**Author's Note:**

> It wasn’t a prompt, which is bad because I should really do at least one of my 31 prompts a week… But this got in my head and wouldn’t leave.

Steve loved this.

 

He nuzzled Clint’s neck and kissed down the warm shoulder line. The sub was pliant under his touch, eyes hooded halfway but not inattentive. “Hey.” He whispered, and Clint smiled back happily. He loved seeing Clint like this, the way Clint was comfortable and relaxed. Putting subs down and seeing them _enjoy_ themselves down there was something Steve loved, and seeing _Clint_ so content made Steve’s heart flutter.

 

Clint had been under for a while, but Steve was keeping careful track. An hour was still much more than what normal subs were comfortable with, but Clint trusted Steve completely, and when he nuzzled his cheek against Steve’s palm, there was no hesitation in the movement. “I’m gonna take you again.” Steve whispered softly.

 

“Mm.” Clint smiled, brilliantly, without any guard. Steve kissed the smiling lips, nudging Clint’s thighs apart. Clint spread them obediently and Steve settled, dipping his finger downward. Clint was still open from their past rounds, and Steve leaned back to grab the lube and to admire the sub below him.

 

Clint’s wrists were crossed above his head and hadn’t budged from their position since Steve ordered them there. “You’re so good.” Steve whispered, and felt a pleasant shudder run down Clint’s body. “Such a good boy. Lift your hips for me, Clint.” Clint obeyed with a purr.

 

Steve had originally been uncomfortable ordering Clint when they first started. Steve had been a dom that was gracious with praises and lacking in strict order, but he’d found out that while Clint drank up praises like water when he was down, he craved orders even more. Clint had suggested Steve go with the small ones first, if he felt so uncomfortable – like _stay there, Clint. Answer me, Clint._ But Steve had seen just how much Clint loved it, and he’d gotten bolder. _Spread your legs for me. Lift your hands up, keep them there._

 

Clint shuddered in pleasure every time Steve gave an order and he obeyed, and Steve smiled as Clint lifted his lips so Steve could move Clint’s weight onto his knees. “You’re gorgeous.” He whispered.

 

Clint smiled up at him, blue eyes sparkling even though they were half closed. “Thank you.” He stayed still, and Steve coated his fingers with lubricant. Clint was relaxed, open still, but Clint had been under long enough that even a small discomfort could throw him into the bad side of being under. Steve worked Clint carefully, keeping a careful track of Clint’s expressions to make sure he wasn’t in pain. But Clint only whimpered in pleasure and need, and Steve moved onto his own cock, coating it liberally before pushing slowly inside. Clint let out a throaty moan.

 

“Let’s bring you back up, yeah?” Steve kissed Clint’s nose, rocking his hips gently. His lubricant-coated hand ghosted along Clint’s own cock. “You’ve been so good, haven’t you?”

 

Clint whimpered. “Yes, oh God, please…”

 

“You want me to let you come?” Steve smiled. It had been his biggest order yet. _Don’t come until I order you to_. Clint had been wonderfully obedient, squirming and moaning as he fought his peak. Steve himself had come inside Clint twice already, and Clint’s body had bucked every time the peak got dangerously close, but he shuddered and kept the order, shivering in intense pleasure. Steve dragged a finger down the stiff organ. “You’ve been so good, Clint. Hold it for a bit more. You’re going to come when you feel me come inside you, okay?”

 

Dirty talk had never been one of his strong points, but Clint loved it, and Steve was eager to do whatever made Clint happy. “Yes, yes, thank you, oh _God_.”

 

Steve kept his pace slow, and Clint whimpered, his wrists flexing above his head. “You want me to fuck you harder?” A whimper and a nod. “You’re a slut, aren’t you, Clint? You’re a little slut who needs to get fucked.” Clint wailed, nodding vigorously. “You want my cock?”

 

“ _Yes_ , please, I want your cock, so hard, so big, I want it to pound into me and-” The rest of Clint’s sentence was lost as Steve took mercy and quickened his pace. Clint’s thighs trembled in exertion, and Steve took pity by pushing them up to his shoulders.

 

“Let’s bring you back up.” Steve repeated. An orgasm was an ideal time to bring a sub back up – the haze of endorphins that lasted afterward wasn’t too different from what a sub felt what he was down. “Come on, Clint.” Steve coaxed, voice laden with pheromones to bring a sub back up. Clint whimpered as Steve’s thrusts became harder. When Steve came with a grunt, Clint’s body buckled upward as he shot ribbons of white over their stomachs, and Steve coaxed him upward.

 

When Clint opened his eyes again, Steve saw the glint that told him Clint was back up. “Mm.” Clint brought his arms back down. “I liked that.” He snuggled up to Steve, burying his nose in Steve’s broad chest as Steve came down to lay next to him. “You should give me harder orders like that.”

 

Steve hummed in his throat. While they were down, a sub had no choice but to obey. Disobeying orders flooded them with a sense of intense pain and depression, and that was the reason why Steve was hesitant on giving Clint orders. What if he gave something Clint couldn’t follow?

 

There were doms in the world like that – forcing subs down and then giving them orders they had no choice but to obey. A sub in a forced-drop had fewer inhibitions than a sub in a drop already did, and they often had no choice but to obey. Criminal courts usually declared forced-drop subs to be innocent in any of their committed crimes, but most of them ended up committing suicide anyway. Steve pulled an arm around Clint. He wouldn’t let it happen to Clint.

 

Clint was already sound asleep in his arms, and Steve quickly wiped Clint down before pulling him closer. He closed his eyes. He could pretend, on days like this, that they were lovers. He kissed the top of Clint’s head and ran a finger down Clint’s cheek.

 

He still remembered the day he’d found Clint, doubled over the toilet and vomiting violently. He’d been dropped forcibly because he hadn’t been put down in so long, and he was getting sick. Subs couldn’t bring themselves back from the drop, and Steve remembered Clint’s usually strong, steady hands fumbling at him as he held Clint to his chest, coaxing him back as fast as he knew how.

 

Since then, Steve and Clint had what most people would call a friends-with-benefits relationship. At first, Clint had only sought Steve out when he needed the drop, once every two or so months, but as Clint came to trust Steve more and more, Steve found himself gradually enjoying Clint’s company at least once a week.

 

But Clint loved Tony. Had, Steve thought, since the beginning. While Tony didn’t exactly not return the affections, Tony was still too hung up on his broken relationship with Pepper to do anything about Clint. Steve had never thought he’d be involved in something as trite as a _love triangle_. He hated sounding cliché, but all he honestly wanted was for Clint to be happy. With or without him.

 

When he woke up the next morning, Clint was still asleep in his arms. Steve shifted, and Clint shifted with him, grumbling slightly in sleep. Steve smiled affectionate down at him and checked the clock. It was exactly 6 AM. Clint usually slept until midday after a drop, so Steve gently eased his arm out and let Clint snuggle into a pillow instead. He usually went for a jog and worked out in the gym in the morning, but anything could come after Clint.

 

Except a quick breakfast. He was hungry.

 

\--

 

“Here.” Natasha handed him three bagels slathered with cream cheese. She always provided him with breakfast after a drop with Clint. She hated the fact that she was a normal human – neither a dom nor a sub. She couldn’t put Clint down without using painful measures, and she had no way of bringing him back up.

 

About two months after he and Clint had started to regularly have sex, Clint had informed him that Natasha had stopped watching them. The news had startled Steve because, well.. He hadn’t known. But later she’d told him that Clint himself had requested it, and then told her that Steve was trustworthy. He had gotten angry and hurt about Clint’s mistrust with him, but Natasha had given him a hard glare.

 

_Clint’s father was a dom. He forced Clint down all the time and didn’t bring him back up until he was sober the next day._

Steve had shut up about any complaints after that. Natasha had explained to him how much it _meant_ for Clint to trust Steve – when Phil put Clint down out of necessity, there was never any sex involved and Natasha would be there watching in case anything happened.

 

“I have bad news.” Natasha announced as she handed him a cup of steaming tea. Steve looked up at her. “Tony and Pepper went out on a vacation together. They won’t be back for a few days.” Steve paused. “Can you put him down again?”

 

Steve frowned. “Not today. He was down for almost two hours last night. We’d risk him getting trapped.”

 

A sub-trap. It happened to doms and subs who weren’t careful about dropping. Steve was expert enough to bring Clint back up even after he’d been down for longer than the usual, but the number of drop times affected a sub more than the length of time spent being down, and a trapped sub could rarely get back up. Steve had heard horror stories of subs who got trapped. Illegal sub-markets trapped subs into mindless slaves who did everything they were told. Trapped subs often managed to commit suicide, but doms had been finding their way around it by ordering them never to get killed.

 

He shuddered. “Not today.” He repeated, and she nodded, frowning. He took the food she gave him back up and settled back down next to Clint. He tried to imagine Clint as a mindless trapped sub, unable to do anything of his own will.

 

He shook the image out right away and settled for biting into his bagel. He wouldn’t let it happen to Clint. Ever.

 

He was reading with his back propped by pillows when Clint finally stirred next to him. “Morning.” Clint grinned, his voice gritty with sleep. Steve closed his book and grinned down at him.

 

“Morning.” He replied. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Fucking amazing.” Clint sighed contently. He stretched like a cat, the sheets around him pulling taut as his arms and legs pulled out. He snuggled up against Steve’s legs and rested his head against Steve’s stomach. Clint was incredibly tactile, especially on the morning after, and Steve wasn’t complaining. “You have no idea how much this means to me, Steve. I mean, Coulson was great, and I trust him with my life and all, but… it’s different, when you’re down there, you know? Plus, he wasn’t always there to help me.”

 

“It means a lot to me, too.” Steve said quietly. “That you trust me so much.”

 

Clint tilted his head to look up at him. He then pulled his arms around Steve, squeezing Steve’s waist and burying his face in Steve’s stomach. “I’m sorry, Steve.” He whispered.

 

Steve threaded his fingers through Clint’s short hair. “Don’t be.” He chuckled, rubbing the blonde spikes. “I promise, Clint. I know what we’re doing, and I wouldn’t trade this for all the money in the world.” He traced the shell of Clint’s ear and Clint snuggled into his hand.

 

“Taking advantage of Captain America.” Clint muttered against his stomach, and it tickled. “Gotta be illegal somewhere. Maybe like Wyoming.” After a pause, he looked up again. “This isn’t healthy. For either of us.”

 

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “Clint, we’re _Avengers_. Our job isn’t healthy.” He ruffled Clint’s hair. “Now to take a shower and wash up.”

 

Clint hugged him tighter before letting him go. Steve considered telling him that Tony and Pepper were out, but decided against it. Clint was in a good mood. There was no reason why he should break it.

 

He was still reading when Clint waltzed out of his shower in nothing but his boxer briefs, sporting more than a few hickeys and bruises on his hips and shoulders. All the same, Clint walked with light steps, grinning broadly. He dove into Steve’s bed and nuzzled his neck for a moment before pulling on his sweatpants and shirt before jumping gracefully back out. “I’m gonna hit the range. Wanna come with?”

 

“Yeah, give me a second.” Steve quickly picked up the boxing wraps nearby and tossed them in his gym bag. He’d stay in the workout room and go at the punching bags while he watched Clint shoot.

 

He’d gotten carried away with his own training, so when he did look up, he saw Clint pull the last arrow out of his quiver and pull it taut, deliberately slow before he let the projectile go. It hit the target dead center, and Steve blinked. Clint had made perfect, concentric circles with his arrows, hitting each border between the colors before releasing the last one dead center. Each arrow was evenly spaced from its neighbors, and Steve couldn’t help but stare.

 

Clint was the best like this – what Bruce called _in his element_. He looked confident, happy, and nothing like what the general pub thought subs should be. Steve sighed again, rubbing his temple as he tapped on the glass before walking in, not that Clint needed the warning. “You don’t mind if I just stay and watch, do you?”

 

Clint threw a crooked, confident grin at him. “Nope.”

 

Steve leaned back on the glass and let himself drift into thought. One of the biggest shocks he’d walked into in the twenty-first century was the relationship between doms and subs. Back in 1940, an only-sex relationship between doms and subs were unheard of. Steve had to admit that yes, it really was convenient, especially for someone like Clint, but it had still taken him some time to get used to. But the worst thing was how sub was portrayed in the new world.

 

It seemed backward to him – the subs he knew back in his day were all strong, smart, beautiful people who had their own opinions. There was no discrimination whatsoever, and held all sorts of jobs.

 

But now, subs were shadowed by doms, forced into menial, demeaning tasks if they even had a job. Most subs stayed at home now and were treated like sex toys, not lovers. Doms balked at having a superior that was a sub, something Steve saw regularly with Clint. Clint usually kept his head held high, but the open sneers from the all-dom headquarters caused even Clint to falter, especially after the incident with Loki.

 

Steve knew what they said. _If it was a dom, he wouldn’t have fallen under. Subs are useless_. It made him seethe with anger because none of them _knew_ what Loki was, didn’t realize Loki hadn’t pushed Clint under but had him in mind control. He gripped his fists and was about to punch something when a hand slid on his shoulder. “Hey, Cap.” Steve looked up to find Clint, an eyebrow raised. “You okay?”

 

Steve blinked. “…Yeah.” He sighed and rubbed his temple again. “It just frustrates me how the subs are treated nowadays.”

 

Clint grinned and punched his shoulder lightly. He sat next to Steve’s knees, and Steve squatted down next to him. “You’re perfect, Steve.” Clint rested his head on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve lowered himself so Clint could be more comfortable doing it. “Like out of a fucking fairytale book. Like the knight in shining armor.”

 

Steve chuckled. “Well then, I’m out of luck, aren’t I?” He turned his head to kiss the top of Clint’s head. Clint didn’t pull away. “Because you aren’t a princess waiting to be rescued.”

 

Clint only laughed in response, but said nothing, so Steve sat there, enjoying the feel of Clint’s warm body pressed against his side. When he cautiously pulled his arm around Clint, Clint snuggled up tighter to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

 

\--

 

If Clint was upset that Tony and Pepper had left on a trip together, he didn’t show it. He was his normal self the entire day, neither overly happy nor depressed. He didn’t come to Steve that night, but Steve had expected it – it wasn’t as if Clint and he were lovers. Admitting that took less effort than he thought it would have, and he plopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

 

He closed his eyes. Tony always would make jabs that he had the money, the looks and the genius to attract anyone he wanted. But Clint didn’t care about the money or the looks or the genius. Steve turned onto his side. Tony Stark was a lucky man, and the worst thing was he didn’t even know how lucky he was.

 

Like he’d expected, Clint didn’t ask to be put down again for the rest of the week. They interacted normally as they always did. “You don’t get sick of it?” Tony muttered one day, when Clint had just left the room.

 

Steve raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Excuse me?”

 

Tony rubbed his forehead. “You know.” He glanced at the door that Clint had just waltzed out of. “Him. Dancing around the two of us.” Tony stabbed at the cream cheese he’d been fidgeting with. “I don’t know what to do.” Steve stayed quiet. “He gives me vibes like he’s interested in me, but then he goes to you to be put down. What the hell am I supposed to think?”

 

Steve slowly put the coffee he’d been sipping at down, and gave him a hard glare. “He gave you all the hints you needed, and you still take Miss Potts out to week long vacations at the Bahamas. What is _he_ supposed to think?” His voice was trembling with barely suppressed anger. “The only reason you keep Clint on his toes is because he’s a sub, and you want him just around as some sort of a trophy-” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, and stopped.

 

But the damage had been done. “You know what, _fuck you_ , Steve.” Tony hissed, “I care about Clint. Things are – things are just hard with Pepper right now, all right? You don’t even fucking now and – I just gotta take care of this. Just fuck you. You think I’m one of those fucking supremist doms who think subs belong on their knees licking our boots, but I’m fucking _not_ , all right? I think those fuckers below down in the dirt, just like you do. I respect Clint, I don’t give a fuck that he’s a sub, I..”

 

He stopped mid-sentence when Pepper walked in, and Steve snatched his mug back up. “You sure have a way of showing it, Tony.” He said, voice frigid, and he walked straight to the shooting range.

 

He found Clint there, and Clint shot an arrow in his direction. It embedded in the wall next to him. “Sorry.” Steve sighed.

 

“For?” Clint shrugged. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at Tony.”

 

“You’re shooting arrows at me, though.” He said softly. “Did you hear the entire thing?” Clint nodded stiffly and shot at him again. Steve didn’t move, and it hit the wall next to his ear with a dull thunk. “I’m sorry.” He whispered again. “It wasn’t any of my business.”

 

Clint shot at him again. It hit the space between his fingers. The shaft of the arrow shook minutely between his middle and index finger. “I’m not mad at you.” He repeated.

 

“But you’re shooting at me.”

 

“Because Tony isn’t here to shoot at.” Clint snapped. His arms drooped to his side and Steve shot forward just in time to catch him from crumbling onto the floor. “I’m not pissed at you.” Clint whispered. “I’m pissed at myself. At Tony. Fuck, at all this.” He was crying, Steve realized, and he was clinging desperately onto Clint. “God, I feel so fucking stupid.”

 

Steve kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go put you down.”

 

Clint nodded, sighing against his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, I need that right now.” Clint hoisted himself out of Steve’s arms and held a hand out to help Steve up. Steve barely remembered getting to Clint’s room, and definitely didn’t remember stripping out of his clothes, or pulling the tubes of lubricant from the drawer.

 

“Hey.” Steve whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Look at me.” Clint did, and Steve hated the way the eyes were rimmed with red. “I’m gonna put you down, yeah?”

 

Clint nodded. Putting a sub down was easy – too easy for Steve’s liking, and Steve squeezed lubricant onto his fingers. He sought out Clint’s pliant lips softly as he pushed a gentle finger inside. Clint whimpered into his lips and Steve nibbled at his bottom lip. He worked Clint open slowly, and pushed in slowly. “Steve, please.” Clint whispered, clawing at his back. “Put me down.”

 

Steve nodded against Clint’s shoulder, breathing hard through his mouth. “Hands above your head. Grab the bars above you.” Clint obeyed instantly. “Keep them there, Clint. Close your eyes. Let’s get you down, yeah?” Steve started to move slowly, talking softly to Clint and coaxing him downward. Steve saw the tense muscles fall lax, and when Clint opened his eyes again they were only half-open. “Good boy.” Clint smiled lazily. “Feet flat on the bed, Clint, raise your hips for me.” Clint obeyed sluggishly. It worried Steve, mostly because Clint was quick and efficient even when he was down. “Tired, huh?” Steve smiled, trying to cover up his concern. “We’ll make it quick today, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Clint whispered, voice sounding too faraway for Steve’s likes. It was how Clint usually sounded when he was down for about an hour, not when he’d been down for less than ten seconds. It told him just how worn out Clint was, and Steve couldn’t believe his own stupidity. Clint had been hiding how he had actually felt while Tony and Pepper had been away, and the argument he’d had with Tony had just made everything worse.

 

Steve pushed in slowly and pulled out slowly, aware Clint couldn’t deal with a hard pace, not like this. Clint whimpered but didn’t push his hips backward or spread his legs wider. “You’re doing so good.” Steve said sincerely, and Clint smiled up at him again. “So good, Clint. Want you to move your legs up to my shoulders. Can you do that? Good.” Clint’s legs trembled in exertion and Steve considered putting them back down, but Clint looked relaxed.

 

He finished quickly and coaxed Clint back up. “Clint, open your eyes, let me see.” Clint did, and Steve frowned. “Clint, you aren’t – you can’t sleep.” He said hurriedly when Clint tried to close his eyes back. “You’re not up yet. If you sleep when you’re down, you’ll be trapped there. Come on, Clint. Be a good boy. Up, come on.”

 

It took an agonizingly painful five minutes for him to coax Clint back up, and when Clint did, he was wide-eyed and trembling. “Steve.” He whispered. “Oh, God.”

 

Steve held him as tightly as he could. “That was – that was too close, I…”

 

Clint kissed his neck. “It’s okay.” He was trembling, but the tremors were dying down. “You got me out of it.” He gripped the back of Steve’s neck and smiled when Steve looked down at him. “We won’t do it for a while, but you got me out of it.”

 

Steve only held him tighter and breathed in his scent, reveled in the way Clint’s arms wrapped around him instead of staying tightly clenched around the bars on the headboard. Clint only smiled and kissed his neck everywhere he could until Steve let out a shaky sigh. “That was too close.”

 

Clint shrugged. “You got me out of it.” His eyes flashed mischievously. “I like it when my legs are on your shoulders.” He grinned when Steve blushed. “It’s a weird position, but I’m flexible enough to do it.”

 

“How come you like it?” Steve tried to fan his flush away.

 

“Cause you do.” Clint grinned as he snuggled up to Steve. “You like it cause you get in there real deep with that position, right?” Steve’s flush returned full force and he groaned and turned his head to hide it. Clint laughed. “Just telling you that you don’t have to hold back when you want me in that position. I like it, too.”

 

\--

 

As it turned out, Steve didn’t put Clint down again not because they were cautious of Clint getting trapped, but because Tony asked Clint on a date.

 

“Well, it’s high time he got his head out of his ass.” Steve said, watching Clint pull on a pair of sinfully tight black skinny jeans. “Where’s he taking you?”

 

“He said it’s someplace nice, but not so nice that I can just dress casually.” He grinned at Steve, and then his grin faltered. “Listen, Steve. I…”

 

Steve held up his hand. “No. I’m honestly happy for you. I promise.” He smiled genuinely, because he was honest. Clint came up to him and kissed his forehead, and knelt down by his knees and rested his head on Steve’s thighs. “I’d run my fingers through your hair, but you’ve got it gelled up all nice.”

 

Clint laughed. “I could blow you.”

 

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “Clint, that’s taboo. Only _you_ would offer to give someone a blow job when you have a dinner date with someone else.” He and Clint started laughing together. “Is he taking you there?”

 

“Ah, no. I actually have to stop by SHIELD to drop my paperwork off – Coulson’s been biting my head off about it. We said we’d meet there by 7.” He grinned up at Steve, resting his chin on Steve’s knee. Steve grinned back and stroked his chin. “Maybe that yelling you did at him finally went to his head.”

 

Steve nodded and couldn’t take his eyes off of Clint’s face. He looked so _happy_ , it was hard to be mad or jealous or feel anything other than relief. He was happy for Clint, and he couldn’t stop grinning back down at Clint’s genuine smile.

 

\--

 

8:30. Steve glanced at the clock and wondered how the dinner was going as he dug in the fridge for milk to put in his coffee. He’d been digging through it when he heard Pepper laugh. “Steve, are you looking for milk again? I keep telling you, it’s in the other fridge.”

 

He scratched his head sheepishly as he rose. “Thank you, Miss Potts. I always-” He froze when he rose. Tony was there, looking disheveled and incredibly like he had just woken up. Pepper looked exactly the same way, but a bit neater. “Why..” He started, his hands trembling. “Don’t you – Don’t you have somewhere you have to be?” He whispered, his eyes wide.

 

Tony looked at him, frowning for a moment, then his eyes widened. “Oh. _Shit_.” He straightened a little, eyes wild. “ _Fuck_.”

 

Pepper raised an eyebrow at him, but Steve beat him to it. Before he’d even known what he’d done, he’d pulled back his fist and landed a fist into Tony’s nose. Pepper shrieked and Tony went crashing through the dishes. He didn’t try to get up or try to cover up his bleeding nose that was obviously broken. Steve didn’t look back as he ran out of the kitchen. He ran out of the kitchen and went running down the emergency staircase. “JARVIS, _where is Clint_?”

 

JARVIS recited the address. “ _I’m sorry, sir, I tried to wake him up but he’d disabled all my functions in his room since yesterday because he was testing security firewalls._ ”

 

“Just – a car, JARVIS, please, with directions. Now.”

 

“ _Yes, sir._ ”

 

He couldn’t get Clint’s elated grin out of his face, and he thought he might have stumbled down more than a few flights of stairs, but he couldn’t even care about the dull throb in his knees and hands as he stumbled into the car that JARVIS pulled out immediately for him, stepping on the gas and tearing through Manhattan traffic.

 

“He’s not here.” Steve’s voice was strained. “Is he inside?”

JARVIS took a second to run through the security cameras inside the restaurant. “ _No, sir. Doesn’t seem to be. I’m currently running a check through the cameras in the area, but Agent Barton makes it a habit to keep out of all the security camera or cell phone feeds…_ ”

 

Steve gritted his teeth. “All right, just… Tell me if you get a clue, yeah?” He drove around, getting out of the car anytime he could to look around. No trace of Clint. Anywhere. He answered the phone when it rang.

 

[ _Coulson and Hill and Fury are out looking for him, too._ ] It was Natasha. [ _I beat up Tony and then Pepper yelled the shit out of him._ ]

 

“Miss Potts?” He repeated, voice cracking. “God, I can’t… I can’t find him _anywhere_.”

 

It was getting dark fast, and it was freezing. Steve tried to remember if Clint had taken a jacket with him and recalled he’d taken a thin windbreaker. [Bruce is staying at the Tower keeping watch there. Thor’s covering the air with Tony.] He growled audibly at the name, and Natasha tactfully ignored it. [We’re all looking. We’ll find him.] She sounded like she was reassuring herself as much as she was trying to reassure him.

 

Steve stepped on the gas and pulled toward the smaller streets. If Thor and Tony were covering the air, they’d be able to see what was in wide spaces. If Clint had escaped to be by himself, he’d be up high, but if he’d been dragged somewhere while he was vulnerable by a dom… Steve tried not to think about it and pulled into the first small street he could find.

 

He’d driven for what seemed like hours when JARVIS finally let out an alarm. Steve didn’t think. He was stepping on the gas and speeding through the streets, ditching the car when the alley became too small. He didn’t think when he saw the sight of two men with a naked and bleeding Clint in between them, one cell phone peeking out of their pocket. He punched both right before Thor crashed into one and Natasha hooked her leg around the other’s neck.

 

“No.” Steve whispered. “No, no, no. Come on, Clint, look at me. Oh, God, _no_.” He pulled Clint into his arms. Clint didn’t respond – his head lolled limply against Steve’s chest, and Steve moaned. “No, oh _God_ , please, _no_.”

 

Natasha pushed the man down onto the floor and pointed her gun at his head. “Who put him down?” Natasha snapped. When the man didn’t answer, she jammed the gun harder into his temple. “ _Answer me!_ ”

 

“I did!” The man cried. “He was just _there_ , all right? Looking at miserable and sad. It didn’t take much to take him down at all. If he didn’t want to be put down, he shouldn’t have been walking outside when he didn’t have any defense-” The man shut up when Natasha dug her knee into his back. “You can’t kill me.” He whimpered.

 

“Try me.” Her voice was frosty. “Tell him to attack Steve.” She snapped. When the man hesitated, she pressed the gun harder into his temple. “Do it!” The man barked the order, and Clint whimpered but he lashed out, his fist knocking solidly into Steve’s shoulder. “Tell him to stop.” Natasha said when Steve took the barrage of punches that followed.

 

The moment the order was given, Clint’s arms fell limply back toward his side. “He’s trapped.” Steve whispered. “Clint, baby, look at me, please. _Please_.” But Clint’s eyes fluttered shut and his head dropped heavily onto his shoulder, completely still save for the too-slow rise and fall of his chest.

 

Steve didn’t know how they got to the hospital, or how they’d managed to pry his arms from around Clint. He vaguely remembered punching Tony again, Pepper slapping him hard across the face and Tony taking everything quietly. He somewhat recalled listening to the doctor tell them Clint was trapped. Could bring back flashes of the car ride back to the tower as he held Clint in his arms.

 

The doctor predicted about a week before Clint snapped and committed suicide. It was the average for trapped subs.

 

The two men were sentenced to eight lifetimes in prison. Steve told it to Clint when he got back from court, lying next to Clint who didn’t stir from his trapped stupor and stroking his cheek and running his fingers through Clint’s lengthening hair.

 

It wasn’t until three days later that he’d gone down to get some warm towels to clean Clint up that he saw Tony.

 

Tony was kneeling down by Clint’s side, gripping his hand and bringing it to cup his cheek. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered, over and over again in a broken chant. “I’m so sorry, Clint. I’m so sorry.” Steve walked up quietly to him and handed him the steaming towels. Tony’s eyes were swollen and he looked scruffier than Steve had ever seen him.

 

“Here.” Steve said, unable to meet Tony’s eye. If he saw Tony’s eyes again, he wasn’t fully confident that he wouldn’t punch him again. “Clean him up, stay with him.”

 

Tony took the towels. “I don’t deserve this.”

 

“No.” Steve agreed harshly. “You don’t. But Clint needs you more than he needs me. Take care of him.” It took Steve all of the willpower he’d ever had to turn around and walk out. He closed his eyes and leaned on the door after it slid shut. He only wanted to Clint to be happy. That was all.

 

But just as he was about to leave, the door reopened. “He needs you.” Tony said, looking at the floor. “You. Not me.”

Steve stared, and Tony yanked him inside. “What-”

 

“The reason orgasms work well for bringing a sub back up is because an orgasm isn’t too unlike subs being down. The reason it _won’t_ work in this case is because he’s in pain down there. He’s hurt, he’s terrified, and he thinks we’re his dad.”

 

Steve froze in his steps. “Why?” His voice shook violently.

 

“When a sub is down, they don’t usually have the proper cognitive functions. It’s even worse for a trapped sub. The drop gets rid of most rational sense and connects it to ingrained memory. Clint’s suffered sexual abuse since he was a kid at the hands of his father. He’s down there again, and he hasn’t been down there since his dad.” Steve wanted to vomit. Natasha had told him about the drops, but not the – not the sexual abuse. But Tony continued as he moved near Clint but not enough to touch him. “The reason why regular orgasm won’t work because orgasm won’t be the same as his state right now.”

 

“I’m not going to hurt him.”

 

Tony gripped his fists. “No. Never. We’re going to change his drop state into a more natural one.” Steve blinked. “It’s possible. He’s not like the other subs. He’s never trusted anyone else to put him down during sex except _you_. If we can get his body to feel the same thing while you’re putting him down, he.. he might realize that it’s us. That it’s you.”

 

Steve stared, but Tony grabbed the lubricant from the top of the drawer and shoved it to his hand. “Do it, Steve. You’re the one.” He nodded and left.

 

Clint was still limp and unresponsive under his touch, and did nothing as Steve gently nudged his thighs apart. He whimpered at the intruding finger, and Steve saw the tears start to roll from his eyes right away. He bit his lip. “It’s me, Clint.” He whispered. “I won’t hurt you, I won’t. You trust me, Clint, remember? I won’t ever hurt you.”

 

He kissed the top of Clint’s head before gently pushing in a second finger. Clint didn’t protest or fight him – he just cried silently, whimpering and shaking. It broke Steve’s heart and his teeth chattered. “It’s me, Clint, it’s me.” He whispered, begging. “Please.”

 

He nibbled at the junction between Clint’s neck and shoulder, and Clint whimpered. Steve withdrew and focused on stretching Clint open. Clint was still crying silently, tears soaking the pillow beneath his head, and Steve swallowed thickly before settling in between Clint’s thighs.

  
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go through with it to the end while Clint didn’t understand it was him. “What can I do?” Steve whispered, cupping and stroking Clint’s cheek. “What do I do to tell you it’s me, Clint?”

 

He didn’t cease his gentle preparation, and he gnawed at the inside of his lips. What could he do? His eyes raked over the trembling thighs, and his breath caught. “Clint.” He whispered, his voice trembling but firm. “Clint, your legs. On my shoulders.”

 

Clint blinked at him. Steve gently moved Clint’s hips up, folding his knees so Clint could plant his feet flat on the bed. “Can you do that for me, Clint? On my shoulders?” He coaxed them upward slowly, but Clint’s tears had stopped flowing. “You told me once that you liked the position.” He whispered. “You said you were flexible enough to do it, and that I shouldn’t hesitate because you liked it too.” He could feel his tears spilling from his face, traveling to his chin and dropping ceaselessly on Clint’s bare stomach. “Could you do that for me again, Clint? You were so good back then.” He brought Clint’s hand up to his cheek and pressed the cool hand to his face. “Please, Clint.”

 

Long moments passed, and Steve swallowed thickly. “Your legs, Clint.” He repeated softly. “On my shoulders.” He stared at Clint, his hands shaking as he stroked Clint’s thighs with one hand and still slowly kept Clint open with the other. “Clint.” He whispered, and Clint let out a shuddering sigh in response.

 

Clint raised his legs, first wrapping them around Steve’s waist, and then hooked his ankles on Steve’s shoulders. “Steve.” Clint croaked, voice cracking from tears and days of neglect. “Steve.”

 

Steve wanted to hold Clint, cry into his neck and hold him forever, but he wasn’t done. “Hands up above your head.” His voice was shaking even more violently and his tears were falling heavily onto Clint. “Cross your wrists.” Clint obeyed sluggishly, slowly as if he was still hesitant, but Steve was going to take what he could. “I’m going to take you now, and you’re going to come with me.” He whispered, pushing slowly inside Clint. Clint let out a whimper but when Steve stopped, there were no tears spilling to the sides.

 

He started to move, quickly but not brutally, stroking Clint’s thighs, whispering praises into his ear. Clint’s body spasmed around him, shaking violently as Steve moved, but didn’t move his hands or let his legs fall. Clint’s back arched as Steve came inside him, his body obeying Steve perfectly as he reached his own peak. “Come up, Clint.” Steve whispered, gripping Clint’s hip in one hand and his hair in the other. “Come back up to me. Come on.” Steve pressed their foreheads together. “Come on, Clint. You can do it. Come back up to me. You’re safe here. You trust me. I would never hurt you.”

 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and prayed, holding Clint as tightly as he could as he chanted and begged and pleaded. Then the arms that had been stiffly crossed above Clint’s head came down and shakily combed through Steve’s hair. “Steve.” Clint whispered.

 

“Clint.” Steve shook, slowly raising himself. He cupped Clint’s face and saw the spark in Clint’s eyes. Tired, exhausted and sick, but the spark was there. “You’re back.” He whispered. “Oh, god, you’re back.”

 

Clint smiled up at him. “I’m back.” He agreed. “God, Steve.” He clung harder to Steve. “Should’ve done this. From the very beginning.” He whispered as he sought out Steve’s lips the exact moment Steve sought his. “Sorry it took me so long.”

 

“But you’re not a princess.”

 

“News flash, Steve. The knight doesn’t get the princess, the prince does.” Clint laughed, hugging Steve as if his life depended on it. “And you’re right. I’m not a princess. I’m a knight. That’s why I didn’t belong with Tony, because he’s a prince if I ever saw one. We don’t belong there, Steve. I don’t belong with Tony. We belong here. Together. And I’m so sorry it took me so long to see it. And this mess.”

Steve laughed and cried because he didn’t know which one to do, and realized Clint was the same. “It’s okay. You’re here, you’re okay, and that’s all that matters.” He kissed down Clint’s neckline, and Clint didn’t whimper and cry. “I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

 

Clint squeezed his shoulders. “No. I’m here, you’re here, I love you, and you love me. _That’s_ all that matters.”


End file.
